Owl Post
by Zavocado
Summary: Its hard to stay chipper when everyone starts dating. Blaine Anderson has tried to find a nice boy to date now that his friends have paired off, but luck isn't on his side. The only boy he wants doesn't know he exists. Kurt Hummel knows who he wants, but its impossible. Blaine will never notice him. It could never work as long as he's a Slytherin. Hogwarts!Klaine AU
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** I have returned? From the great beyond and abyss of my final college semester. 16 days and counting until I graduate. And soon there will be book announcements too since my manuscript is finished and in copy editing. Exciting stuff!

Anyway, this is clearly a crossover Klaine story, a Klaine at Hogwarts story. I started posting this on tumblr probably a year ago, stopped writing because I was busy with a dozen other things, and I figured I'd pick it back up and start posting outside of tumblr as well. I'm not sure how frequent updates will be, or how long this one will be, but it'll be multiple chapters.

Oh, and I started a sequel for an older story of mine, but that'll be a summer fic, if I can get it finished by then. Enjoy!

**Owl Post**

**Chapter 1**

Blaine circled the pitch, watching his teammates zip past far below. The only thing brighter than their canary yellow Quidditch robes was the edge of the rising sun just peaking up over the distant castle. As much as he loved Quidditch, Blaine despised being up this early on a Sunday. Unfortunately, the Slytherin and Gryffindor captains had carried over from last term, which meant their training schedules had been decided five months ago, whereas Hufflepuff's hadn't.

Mike Chang, their new Captain and one of Blaine's best friends, had picked their new time slot, which meant five in the morning practices instead of evenings after dinner. For Mike, evenings were exclusively reserved by his girlfriend, Tina, and his tower of N.E.W.T. level homework. There was also the added benefit of a longer time slot, but Blaine liked to pretend that his early morning wakeup call was the fault of Mike's selfish need for romance.

"Oi, Anderson! Stop dawdling around up there!"Mike hollered up to him. He neatly pulled out of a dive and tossed the Quaffle off to Wes Montgomery, one of the team's Chasers.

"Ah, leave him be," Nick called across the pitch, twirling his Beater's bat. "We all know how much Blaine likes a good bit of wood between his legs in the morning."

As the rest of the team chortled, Blaine grimaced, then turned his broom around and shot straight at Nick, veering off at the last second to avoid a collision. It was, however, close enough to startle Nick, sending the brunette tumbling sideways off his broom and into the mud.

More laughter followed Blaine's stunt as Nick spluttered through a mouthful of goop.

"I prefer two bits of wood, actually," Blaine corrected him. "One of my own, and a willing volunteer's."

Mike swooped down to where Blaine was hovering over Nick. "All right, all right! That's enough mucking around," Mike ordered. "The sooner you catch the Snitch, the sooner we all get to eat, yeah?"

There was a murmur of agreement from the rest of the team. Blaine cast his eyes around the pitch as he flew back over their practice. He'd mostly been waiting for the sun to rise enough to help his vision. Now it was high enough that a few rays were filling the stadium with enough light that would hopefully reflect off the little golden ball so that he could spot it. Blaine spent the next five minutes swooping around and darting in and out of his teammates for a few plays. Several times he thought he'd spotted the Snitch, but it was only Wes's wristwatch.

Down below him, Jeff groaned and rubbed his stomach. "Hurry it up, Blaine, or I'm going to eat my bat."

"Really? I didn't know you had a think for wo–"

A flash of gold zipped by Jeff's head as Blaine glanced over. Without a second thought, he tilted his broom and dived, streaking across the pitch after the glimmering speck as Jeff shrieked and tumbled out of the way.

"That doesn't mean I'll eat _your_ wood!" Jeff bellowed, hanging upside down from his broomstick.

Blaine gave chase to the Snitch, following its winding path through the other players until he finally cut it off on a curve. The ball's little wings struggled fiercely as Blaine's fingertips closed around it, and a chorus of whoops started up below.

"Yes! Breakfast time!" Nick roared. He almost crashed as he slammed into the grass and raced off towards the distant castle, broom over his shoulder and Jeff a few steps behind him.

Laughing, Blaine flew over to Mike's side and followed him back to the ground. The rest of the team was already dashing off for the castle and their house table patiently waiting for them to relieve it of breakfast.

Mike sighed as they dismounted and collected the Quaffle where it had been dropped. "I don't know what I'm going to do with those two," he commented, picking the Quaffle up and carrying it into the changing room where they'd left the ball trunk.

"They're the best Beaters in the school," Blaine reminded him. "They're no match for Sam, but until his grades pick up again... "

"Yeah, well, they're a little too focused on their stomachs," Mike told him, grimacing at the reminder of Blaine's year-mate and other best friend, Sam Evans. He hadn't done very well on his O.W.L.s the year before; well enough to pass, but not well enough to stay on the team for the first half of the year. Professor Beiste had said she would have his grades re-evaluated over Christmas break in the hopes that he could start in their match against Gryffindor in early March.

Blaine shrugged as they set their brooms against the changing lockers, and heaved the huge trunk onto a bench. They popped it open and put the Snitch and Quaffle back into their holders before moving off to their own lockers.

Mike tugged his robes over his head and shoved them into his locker, quickly pulling his school robes on and hoisting his broom over his shoulder. "Catch you later, yeah? I've gotta go meet Tina to, uh–to study."

"Uh huh," Blaine laughed. He rolled his eyes at Mike's attempt to cover up a planned make out session. "Sure, go study her lips. I want an entire roll of parchment on it by Wednesday!" he hollered after Mike's retreating figure.

A little wave was offered in reply before Mike exited the changing room. With a heavy sigh, Blaine tugged his own canary yellow robes off and tossed them into his locker. Here he was alone, like always. While Blaine was certainly happy for Mike and Tina, he still wished he had someone to hold close. Even Sam had a girlfriend right now. There were plenty of other gay boys at Hogwarts, and he'd almost had a boyfriend last year until Todd had graduated, but the others were already paired off or would never give him the time of day because of house rivalries. Particularly the one boy he'd had his eyes on.

There was absolutely no way a Slytherin would spare him a second glance; especially not one he'd never spoken to in six years of sharing classes. Kurt Hummel, for all his astounding beauty, exquisite tastes, and biting wit, was out of bounds and certainly not interested in him.

* * *

><p>Kurt glanced up as the last member of the Hufflepuff Quidditch team entered the Great Hall for breakfast. The others had arrived nearly twenty minutes ago, then their Captain had taken his spot at his girlfriend's table, and finally their Seeker had arrived. Before Santana, Rachel, Sebastian, or any of his other housemates noticed the direction of his gaze, Kurt turned back to his porridge and tuned into the debate going on.<p>

"Look, there's nothing I can do to change it. He's still got that sprained wrist and they put the request in on time," Sebastian spat, slamming his fist down on the table top and upsetting a jug of juice.

Kurt waved his wand and cleaned it up quickly. He'd be better off staring at the handsome Hufflepuff who'd caught his interest over the summer instead of listening to another asinine Quidditch discussion.

"But we _always _play Gryffindor for the first match," Rachel shrieked. "I spent all summer practicing to play _them_, and now we're playing Ravenclaw!"

"Oh, shut up, Hobbit," Santana snapped, grabbing another croissant and tearing it open. "All you have to do is catch the Snitch." Santana tilted her nose up and shot Rachel a contemptuous look. "Not that you stand a chance against Britt, but your game play won't change."

"Of course it will," Rachel argued. "Her broom is a different model than Flanagan's. She's got a completely unpredictable style–"

"That's my baby," Santana cut in with an approving nod.

Sebastian snorted and tipped the platter of bacon onto his plate. "Right, because it isn't just her randomly thinking she's spotted a golden butterfly and needs to catch it."

Santana swiped the knife she'd been using to spread jam on her croissant through the air in front of Sebastian's face. "Back off my girl, Twink. She's a _Ravenclaw_, remember?"

"Hard to forget since we're playing her next month," Rachel said hysterically.

"Piss off, Berry," Sebastian growled. "We'll be fine. It's only Ravenclaw. Or are you _not_ one of the best?"

"I _am_ the best," Rachel corrected, sounding annoyed.

"At being a brat," Kurt said, letting his eyes have another fast look over to the Hufflepuff table.

"Oh, whatever. You don't know a damn thing about Quidditch," Rachel snapped. She huffed loudly and raised her nose towards the cloudy ceiling.

Kurt quirked an eyebrow at her. "Neither do you if your record last season is any indication. I believe Anderson and Brittany beat you by a dozen meters."

Rachel's face turned bright red, her lower lip jutting out in fury. She hopped to her feet and glared at them. "Fine, just _fine_. Now I won't be prepared and everything is going to fall apart and we're going to _lose_."

The three of them watched Rachel storm out of the hall. Sebastian rolled his eyes in annoyance and Santana grimaced.

"I don't know why you keep her on the team," Kurt commented, not for the first time. "She's too high-maintenance, and that's coming from _me_."

"I'd rather have you coming _for_ me," Sebastian retorted slyly, smirking as Kurt made a retching noise.

Kurt scowled. "Not even in your wildest fantasies."

Sebastian chuckled softly. "Oh, you're there. So is every other sexy guy in this castle."

"Never going to happen," Kurt replied loftily. He drank the rest of his juice and stood up. "I've got Potions homework to finish. You going to join me, Santana?"

"Nope," Santana answered, shaking her head and staring over at the Ravenclaw table. "I've got a date with my lady."

"Is it the one due tomorrow morning?"Sebastian asked, looking interested. "I've still got to finish that one. We could... _study_ together," he added suggestively, winking.

"Oh, go stuff Karofsky's ass," Kurt said before turning around and heading towards the entrance hall.

Kurt was barely paying attention as he stalked along the ends of the house tables. At the doorway, however, he shouldered straight into someone and nearly lost his balance.

"Oh, Merlin, I'm s–"

Kurt regained his footing enough to glance up and snap at the idiot who had run into him, but when he saw who it was he nearly toppled over again. The Hufflepuff Seeker, Blaine Anderson, was staring at him in apparent terror, mouth still open from the words he hadn't finished.

They stared at each other for a moment. Kurt's heart thumped like an avalanche in his chest. He couldn't think of anything to say. His mouth was dry and his tongue felt numb. Blaine was even more handsome up close. How had he missed that for five straight years? Why was it only this summer that he'd seen this boy?

Blaine's eyes, a bright hazel that made Kurt's stomach knot up, were as big as Galleons as he took a tentative step backwards. "I-I –sorry. Bye."

Before Kurt could even attempt to force his tongue into action, Blaine darted out into the entrance hall and down a corridor next to the marble staircase that Kurt had never ventured along before. It wasn't the dungeons, his own common room was hidden down there. Perhaps it led to a secret staircase of some sort. Hogwarts was always full of surprises. It wasn't a spot he'd ever paid particular attention to, but a group of Hufflepuffs hurried in the same direction. Their common room was probably tucked away down there.

Distracted, Kurt took his time heading down to the Slytherin common room to collect his bag and books. Blaine had been right in front of him. They'd actually _touched_, even if it had only been by accident. Stomach flipping, Kurt mumbled the password at the bare stone wall, watched the panel slide aside, and hurried in.

After giving Rachel, who seemed to have been waiting for one of them, a very snarky answer to why none of them had followed her out, Kurt grabbed his bag from his dormitory and headed back out into the dungeon corridor. The library would be quieter and less bothersome than the common room. It wasn't unusual for him to spend his weekends alone outside of meals. He only had a small group he hung out with and considered friends. Nowadays, all of them were quite busy between Quidditch and their budding romantic lives.

Santana and Brittany had gotten together at the beginning of last year, and while Kurt typically enjoyed the Ravenclaw's company he hated feeling like a third wheel.

Rachel and a seventh year Slytherin, Jesse St. James, had started dating not long after that, which had left Kurt with only Sebastian and a snotty boy that shared their dormitory. Sebastian had started flirting with one of Jesse's year mates, David Karofsky, a few weeks later. The two weren't an item as far as Kurt knew, but they spent quite a bit of time together, either arguing or roughly snogging each other.

Kurt had attempted to date a few boys to fill his friends' new absence, but none of them had panned out. He didn't exactly have a lot of acceptable options if he wanted to stay on good terms with his house.

Gryffindors were automatically out since they were Slytherin's biggest rival. None of the older Gryffindor boys were even gay as far as Kurt knew. There was a fourth year who Kurt suspected, but the kid's voice was still squeaking and cracking. He wasn't going to rob the cradle just to have a boyfriend.

Ravenclaws were his only option outside of his own house. Most days he couldn't stand the lot of them. The one sixth year he'd attempted to date had been a nightmare, constantly prattling on about whether or not he'd forgotten this homework assignment or to study for that test. Brittany was a rare exception as far as Ravenclaws went. He wasn't even sure _how_ she'd ended up in the house known for wisdom and intelligence, but he supposed there had to be a part of her character that he'd overlooked.

All of the queer boys in Slytherin–himself, Sebastian, and David Karofsky–were already accounted for. Even if the other two had been single, Kurt wouldn't have been interested. He knew both of them way too well, and had been on the receiving end of Karofsky's closeted anger several years ago. They'd both made amends over the drama of their third year, but Kurt couldn't ever imagine dating the boy.

The fourth house, Hufflepuff, was considered off limits just like Gryffindor, albeit for different reasons. The majority of Slytherin thought they were just a bunch of duffers and idiots–the scraps left over from the other three houses. Kurt didn't particularly agree with their mentality, but he hadn't ever had a reason to go against it. At least, not until he'd caught sight of Blaine Anderson in Diagon Alley over the summer.

For the past five years, Kurt hadn't made a habit of knowing all of his classmates names. Outside of Slytherin, he only knew a handful of his step-brother's Gryffindor housemates, but he'd known Blaine's. The one Hufflepuff who volunteered information in class. The one that beat all of the Slytherins in his year, including Kurt, in exams and was the star Seeker of the Hufflepuff Quidditch team, and the bane of Rachel Berry's existence for that very reason.

Before this summer, Blaine had been a tiny, skinny boy with a floppy mop of dark curls on his head. When Kurt had seen him in Diagon Alley, however, Blaine had been... different. Gorgeous, really. So much so that Kurt had dribbled ice cream all over his favorite set of robes.

Blaine had suddenly grown up. His curls had been trimmed, no longer framing his face and getting stuck on his lips, but cut up above his ears and styled off his forehead. He'd grown a good six inches, his upper body had started to fill out, and his face was suddenly way too similar to the chiseled features of the models in Kurt's favorite _Wizard of the Robes_ magazines. Particularly one, Cooper Anderson, who Kurt had realized must be Blaine's older, just as handsome, brother.

Finding the other boy browsing through the Arithmancy section at Flourish and Blotts had been quite unexpected, and even worse, he'd made Kurt's stomach swoop. With his dashing smile and his husky little laugh at whatever his accompanying friends had said, Blaine had, even from twenty feet away, made Kurt's knee knock together and his lungs not want to function. He was the most breathtaking boy Kurt had ever seen. Unfortunately, if Kurt wanted to keep his friends, then Blaine was completely off limits.

With a miserable sigh, Kurt swept into the library, robes flapping around his ankles. He stalked through the towering rows of books to his favorite, secluded corner and dropped down at the little desk. Even if Blaine hadn't been off limits he wouldn't know what to say to the other boy. He'd never actually had the chance to speak with a crush before since the other three had been famous models from his magazines.

Kurt pulled out his Arithmancy books, a scroll of parchment, ink, and his quill. It was his first assignment for the class, and not due for another week, but when the term started on a Thursday, there wasn't much to do over the first weekend.

He was better off forgetting about Blaine and finding a cute straight boy to silently swoon over. At least then he'd know there was no point in trying to get up the courage to talk to him. If his crush was straight, then there was nothing to worry about. Just an easy safety net to while away in until he graduated, went to the Healers' Academy, and met the undisputed love of his life.

At least that's what he kept telling himself.

But Blaine wasn't straight, which only made everything worse. Blaine had dated one guy last year–a gangly seventh year Ravenclaw named Todd–but it had never amounted to anything. They'd apparently called it off before graduation, because when Kurt had spotted (okay, maybe he _had_ followed them) Blaine and his friends at another shop in Diagon Alley that same afternoon, Blaine had been arm in arm with a different boy. That boy, another Ravenclaw, hadn't so much as spoken to Blaine since the first day of school.

Blaine seemed to be doing something similar to what Kurt was. All of _his_ friends had suddenly started dating, too, and Blaine was jumping from date to date, trying to find his own romance. Kurt wanted more than anything to let Blaine find that with him, but he didn't know how to go about that. Not with all of the other Slytherins watching.

Behind him something sharp tapped against the window. Kurt half-heartedly glanced behind him only to see his faithful owl, McQueen, perched on the window ledge. Surprised, but slightly happy to see a scroll tied to his leg, Kurt tugged the window open carefully, trying to be as quiet as possible in case Madame Pince was about.

McQueen hopped inside and settled on his shoulder, sticking his left leg out dutifully so that Kurt could take his letter. Receiving letters through owl post was one of Kurt's favorite things about being away at school. His father and stepmother wrote him several times a week, whereas in the summer Kurt tended not to write letters at all. He and Santana only lived five miles away from each other, so they met up in person. He usually didn't have anything nice to say to Rachel, so he tended to forget her during the holidays. The same went for Sebastian. He had to share a dormitory with the prick nine months out of the year. He didn't want to deal with him during his breaks, too.

Kurt unrolled the scroll and read through his father's short reply, telling him how his Quidditch shop in Diagon Alley was doing, and about Carole's new promotion at St. Mungo's. She had been a huge inspiration for his own decided career path. Next to him, McQueen stretched his wings and hooted softly, nudging Kurt's hand with his beak.

"Sorry, boy," Kurt murmured. "I don't have any food on me. I'll give you bacon at breakfast," he offered instead. "I'll have to write back sometime tonight, but I'll give you the night off. I know you're not used to making lots of journeys... "

Kurt trailed off, stunned as a sudden idea struck him. Letters. The perfect way to be anonymous, but still talk to Blaine. He only had to use a school owl, or figure out which one was Blaine's, and have it deliver it to him. There would be no blushing or humiliating stutters, and the best part was that he'd be incredibly difficult to track for the other Slytherins. It might even be weeks before they caught wind of a Hufflepuff having a secret admirer.

Not being able to tell Blaine who he was would be hard, not giving Blaine any idea of who he was would be close to impossible, but if he let anything that identified him slip and Blaine didn't think his letters were endearing...

Then the entire school would know. He'd be completely doomed to two years of torment before he graduated.

"Hey, McQueen, you wouldn't happen to know which owls belong to who, would you?" Kurt asked. He didn'texpect an answer, but the barn owl jerked his head in what was an unmistakable nod. "I'll give you an entire platter of bacon in the morning if you can find Blaine Anderson's owl."

McQueen's eyes grew huge at the offer. He hooted , nudged Kurt's hand again, and then swooped out of the open window.

Not entirely sure what McQueen was about to do, or if he'd even understand, Kurt stuck his head out the window. "I didn't finish telling you what to do yet!" he hollered after the owl, watching him soar up past the North Tower and out of sight.

"Mr. Hummel, be _silent!_ This is a library!" Madame Pince snapped from just out of sight.

A second later she was upon him, squawking and flapping her arms at him like they were propellers. "Out, _out!_ You're disrupting the other students!"

Kurt grabbed his bag and books as he stumbled back towards the entrance. But even her aggravation couldn't burst his fantastic mood. "I think you've disrupted them more in two minutes than I have in five years," he called over his shoulder, breaking into a sprint as he reached the corridor.

Even two corridors away he could still hear her angry snarling. Maybe he hadn't gotten much work done, and maybe he wouldn't be allowed back into the library until his grandchildren were roaming these halls, but he had a plan. A plan that would allow him to talk to Blaine Anderson without anybody knowing he was.


	2. Chapter 2

**NOTE: So I fucked up with posting. My brain's just lost itself completely these days. I blame working retail. So, I actually posted what is going to be Chapter 3, meaning this is something entirely new, and also that I will have something to post next Friday!**

**Apologies for the confusion of 4am posting, and I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to correct it before work today!**

**Enjoy the REAL Chapter 2.**

**Owl Post**

**Chapter 2**

Monday mornings were always rough for Blaine. After a weekend of little sleep because of early Quidditch practices and long afternoons and evenings filled with course work he was typically more exhausted then than he was by the time Friday crept up on him. Eyes heavy and lids drooping, Blaine flopped down at his usual spot along the Hufflepuff table and tugged a platter of bacon towards himself. Despite a short first week, his course load have been substantial. Sixth year was certainly no joke like his older brother, Cooper, had made it out to be. That was probably why he'd skipped out on N.E.W.T.s and run off to London to become a model. So far it had worked out well for him.

After several forkfuls of eggs, three slices of bacon, and half a cup of tea, Blaine paused to scan the Ravenclaw table across the room. Sure enough the yellow of Mike and Sam's ties and robe trimming stuck out like jaundice-plagued thumbs amongst the Ravenclaws' deep blue. The only thing that stood out as much was the blond of Sam and Quinn's hair. They were cuddled up together on the bench while Mike and Tina did the same several yards down.

Sagging down onto the bench pitifully, Blaine stared at his half-empty plate. Someday he'd have that, maybe not during his time at Hogwarts, but someday. Someday he'd have another boy's hand to hold and someone to snuggle up with when the stress of studying, or a job, became too much.

"Gosh, B, if you looked anymore like a kicked puppy I'd have to stun you," Nick commented as he hopped onto the bench beside him. "What's–" his eyes followed Blaine's longing gaze. "Oh, right. You're pining for romance again. Honestly, a quick and fun snog is so much better."

"Better for _you_," Blaine muttered as he stared back down at his plate. His stomach grumbled angrily, requesting second-helpings. "I _want_ romance," he reminded the other boy as he started piling his plate up again. "I don't just want to get off with someone every once in a while."

"I didn't say anything about getting off," Nick frowned, filling his own plate as Jeff dropped down beside him. "I said _snog_. There is a difference."

"Not when it's you and Beverly hogging _my_ chair by the fire," Blaine griped.

Jeff sniggered as Nick thrust his fork in Blaine's face. "That was _one time_–"

"It was all the time." Sugar Motta, a fourth year Hufflepuff, had joined their spot at the long table. Blaine had tutored her in Transfiguration a few years back and they'd become good friends since. "Good morning, cutie," she added, sliding onto the bench at Blaine's side and peaking him on the cheek. "Are they pulling your wand again?"

The two boys across from them grimaced and pulled faces. "_Ugh_," Jeff groaned and shoved the platter of bacon away. "That was _not_ something I wanted to picture over breakfast. Or ever, actually."

"Never ever," Nick agreed,. He glared at Sugar and then glowering at his plate of eggs. He shoved his away, too. "Nope, I can't eat now. Thanks a lot, Motta."

"You'll live, I'm sure, and then you'll realize that I'm better than both of you with a bat and that you're a pair of–"

"Asperger's!" Blaine interjected before she could finish.

"Self-diagnosed Asperger's," Nick corrected, glaring at Sugar, who raised her shoulders and tilted her head until she looked positively adorable. More than once Sugar had used her "illness" to get away with saying things that others couldn't. It worked with everyone except Professor Sylvester, but Professor Sylvester also tried to string students up by their toenails when she got the chance.

"I'm still the cutest thing at this table," she decided. Nick and Jeff clambered to their feet and disappeared out into the entrance hall. "So what's with the look?" she asked, filling her glass with pumpkin juice.

Blaine glanced towards Mike and Tina, then Sam and Quinn, and finally, and very briefly, in the direction of the Slytherin table where Kurt Hummel was seated with his friends. "Nothing," he sighed, dropping his gaze as his heart rolled down a flight of stairs. "Just–it doesn't matter."

"He's cute," Sugar said suddenly. "You should definitely go for it."

"He–how did you know who–" Sugar smiled and patted his cheek.

"I don't have to see him to know he's gorgeous," she said simply. "You have wonderful tastes, Blaine Anderson. I've seen the inside of your wardrobe _and_ that room you call a closet at home. Get your guy before someone else does."

Sugar climbed to her feet and bopped off down the table to sit with her year-mates. Blaine stared after her, turning the suggestion over in his head and wondering just how desperate he'd have to be to attempt it, and then at what moment during the next two years he'd reach such a point.

Blaine turned back to his eggs and tried his best to ignore the empty seats around himA wet sucking sound burbled behind him. He glanced over his shoulder at a couple of Gryffindors suctioned together at the mouth. Professor Sylvester would be along soon enough to threaten them bodily harm for making out in the Great Hall. If there was one thing she wouldn't tolerate, it was Gryffindors existing in any vacuum of happiness, lust, or bliss.

Sure enough–

"Break it up, duck face! I don't want your offspring quacking in my classroom eleven years from now!"

Blaine chuckled to himself as the couple broke apart. He might love the idea of romance, but sloppy reminders over breakfast weren't his taste. Professor Sylvester stalked down the table and broke up a handful of another couples before swooping out of the hall in a shower of parchment. Blaine watched the Hufflepuffs at the far end of the table scramble to help the poor third year collect all of his notes and essays before they were trampled.

Just as he was finishing up, the morning post fluttered in overhead. Owls swooped and dived around each other in search of their owners. A number of them carried large, heavy-looking parcels–forgotten items from home–and others had _The Daily Prophet_ knotted to their legs. Blaine watched one enormous parcel make its way towards Sugar, who squealed in excitement. Her father was incredibly wealthy and made a habit of sending expensive, luxurious gifts for her at least once a week.

A flash of white feathers caught Blaine's eyes and a second later his snowy owl, Queen, settled down on his shoulder.

" 'Lo, girl," he greeted, passing her a piece of bacon. He didn't expect any mail or letters this early in the year. His brother wrote once a month if Blaine was lucky, and his parents were busy with their jobs at the Ministry. But Queen's hoot of thanks was accompanied by a letter fluttering down onto the table by his elbow. Surprised, Blaine scooped it up as she nipped his finger in thanks.

There was no formal script on the front of the envelope like his parents' letters came addressed with. No ridiculous titles announcing, "The Incredibly Handsome and Deviously Charming, Mr. Cooper Jay Anderson" were stamped on the front, either. If it hadn't clearly had his name scribbled across the front(in a handwriting he didn't know), Blaine would have assumed it was for someone else. Blaine glanced up and down the Hufflepuff table and then at the Gryffindors over his shoulder. Nobody was paying him the slightest bit of attention that he could see. The Ravenclaws were already starting to clear out for classes and he didn't even register on the Slytherins' radars. With one final sweep of the hall, Blaine plucked the letter up and offered Queen the rest of his toast. She pecked it in delight as he slit the envelope open and pulled the letter out.

At once an overwhelming scent of warm vanilla and some type of cologne greeted him. Intrigued, Blaine unfolded the parchment and read the very short letter:

_ You grow more beautiful every morning when the sunlight reaches the high windows and highlights your soft curls. When it hits the amber of your eyes, my world turns over and I wonder how it is that we live so close, yet never together._

Blaine gapped as the tables around him began to clear out. Someone had to be messing with him. Or maybe it was a foolish, lovesick girl who didn't realize he was gay. But still... Blaine read it over again, heart pattering and throat dry. He had a secret admirer, someone reaching out but too scared to say anything aloud. Just like he was when it came to Kurt Hummel. It was such a pointless crush to have. Kurt would never notice him when he was wearing a Hufflepuff's robes. Whoever this was, wasn't who he hoped it was, but that didn't mean it was a bad thing. Either way, it was only one letter. Nothing would probably come from it.

"Oi, Blaine, hurry it up!" Sam hollered across the hall to him. "We're gonna be late for Charms!"

Blaine scrambled to grab his bag and finish his juice. As he stood up and tucked the letter into his inside robe pocket, the sunlight trickled in from behind the thick clouds dotting the sky. He paused, ignoring Sam's shouts of protest, and looked around. He always sat facing east towards the sun and the Slytherin and Ravenclaw tables. It was rare if he ever had a reason to turn around towards the Gryffindors, so whoever had written this didn't sit behind him. For now he'd have to keep an eye out, and see if he could get Queen to carry a letter back to whoever this person was. It might end in disaster or maybe, just maybe, the one thing he'd been longing for might come out of this.

* * *

><p>Kurt trudged towards his first N.E.W.T. level Charms class with Santana, Rachel, and Sebastian. It was one of the few classes they all still shared together now that their O.W.L.s were done. So far they had Potions and Transfiguration together, but the other courses Kurt had signed up for were mostly by himself.<p>

"But can't we play Hufflepuff instead–"

"Do you _really_ want to play Anderson?" Sebastian said as they dodged around a frightened looking group of first years, who were clearly lost. "You've _never_ beaten him."

"Which is why I've been practicing moves and strategies so that I can. He's as small as _me_, so I know his tricks now. There's no hidden puberty under his belt anymore since I don't think he's going to have one," Rachel snarled. Kurt frowned at her words. Blaine's growth spurt had done unnoticed by the other Slytherins so far, but it wouldn't after today. They were bound to have at least one class together. "Can't we play them first? Get the worst out of the way? Gryffindor's easy enough these days, and Ravenclaw is–"

"Don't even _think_ about saying a word against my girl," Santana hissed, knocking a second year's books to the floor. "Watch it, shorty!"

"Santana," Kurt scolded, watching the girl, a second year Hufflepuff, stare tearfully down at her books. Her hair was dark and curly just like Blaine's. Kurt hoped she wasn't his younger sister. "Don't be so rude."

"Whatever," Santana snapped. She rolled her eyes as they reached their classroom. "It'll toughen her up. Gotta make sure at least _one_ Hufflepuff in this school can handle herself."

Santana glared pointedly at Kara Tesslon, a Hufflepuff in their year, who was already seated at the front of the room. With a jolt, Kurt spotted Blaine and two of his friends at a table in the second row. He'd seen Blaine's snowy owl flutter down at his table that morning, watched him unfold the letter through a crowd of Ravenclaws charging off to class, but he hadn't been able to bare watching him read it and react. What if Blaine thought it was creepy and weird? His one chance might be ruined if Blaine wasn't as much of a sappy romantic as he was.

"I see you managed to pass your Charms O.W.L. without bribery," Kara snapped, whipping her ponytail over her shoulder and glaring at them as they passed. "Never thought you'd be able to find the brains to get here on your own, Lopez."

"At least she can do it without opening her thighs for every examiner that passed through the Great Hall," Sebastian cut in, giving Kara a hard look. The girl flushed, and Kurt turned away quickly and took a seat in the third row, not right behind Blaine and his friends, but diagonal. Everyone present was familiar with Kara's reputation and the truth those rumors held. Kurt didn't like the insults, but he'd never spoken up to stop them either.

Kurt gave Blaine and his friends another quick glance, but they seemed to have tuned out of the short confrontation. The large group of Ravenclaws in the front row had turned to watch in interest. The Gryffindors, and Kurt knew his step-brother, Finn, would be one of them, hadn't arrived yet.

"So anyway," one of Blaine's friends was saying. He was tall and blond with big lips. Kurt thought his name was Sam, but he wasn't sure. "Mike was telling us at breakfast that Gryffindor postponed their first match, so Slytherin's playing–"

A loud, wolf whistle echoed around the room as Sebastian plopped down in the seat in front of Kurt and directly next to Blaine's desk.

"Anderson?" Sebastian questioned, squinting over the aisle at him. "_Damn_, is that what you look like without a werewolf climbing out of your scalp?"

Kurt stared stonily at his desk as the room went quiet. This was the first class they'd had with Blaine so far, and despite his hopes, Sebastian had noticed Blaine at once. It was the one thing Kurt had been dreading since he'd gotten on the train last week. Sebastian was notorious for hopping from boy to boy and girl to girl. He was one of the few bisexual students at Hogwarts, but the only one who made no secret about his exploits. Everyone else turned to watch Sebastian check Blaine out, all whispering at the beginnings of another conquest.

"Probably cut it so that he stands a chance at seeing the snitch," Rachel added with a smirk, giving Blaine a once over that even Kurt could tell meant she was interested. Even Santana was eyeing Blaine's body appraisingly. Kurt wished he'd left his robe on instead of draping it over his chair. Every muscle and sharp line of definition was visible through his uniform shirt.

"And yet I still catch it first every time we play you," Blaine's now deep, steady voice replied. He looked baffled at the flurry of admiring glances, but the banter was nothing unusual. "What's your excuse for missing it, Berry? Ego too heavy for your broom to move?"

The two Hufflepuff boys around Blaine roared with laughter as Rachel stalked away and dropped down beside Kurt. Sebastian laughed a few times with them, still staring at Blaine.

"It's her bitterness that weighs her down," Sebastian said. He looked Blaine over again, his eyes dragging as they followed the new contours of Blaine's torso, his arms. "Summer's been good to you, Anderson," he added with a wink. His eyes racked over Blaine's handsome face and torso until Kurt's face was flushed with anger. "Very generous in all the _right_ places."

"Unfortunate then that it wasn't the same for you," Blaine quipped. He gave Sebastian a funny look. "Still as much of an ass as you were last year."

"Well," Sebastian said slowly, giving Blaine a lingering, lustful look, "that'll work in your favor if you're an ass man, wouldn't it?"

Blaine stared at Sebastian as Professor Schuester scurried in with the Gryffindors. Finn, Puck, Mercedes, and three other girls filled the remaining seats around the rest. Finn offered him a dopey smile when Kurt turned his way, and Mercedes gave him a small, discrete wave. His step-brother was an acceptable Gryffindor to acknowledge, but it got trickier with Mercedes. She was a wonderful girl, and Kurt liked her a lot, but they both didn't want to face the wrath of their houses over their tentative friendship.

Kurt glared at the back of Sebastian's head as Professor Schuester welcomed them to N.E.W.T. level Charms and Rachel hissed angrily at his side. It would be just his luck that Sebastian would aim for Blaine. Honestly, he should have been better prepared for it when he considered just how handsome Blaine had grown. Everyone had been noticing him since classes started last week, even the girls who knew Blaine was gay whispered and blushed when he walked past.

Kurt glowered at his desk as Professor Schuester began his first lesson of review to get them back up to speed for the term. He didn't stand a chance with his stupid letter idea, not with Sebastian flirting and glancing up a storm right in front of him. But Blaine didn't seem interested from what Kurt could tell. If anything he seemed amused and a little concerned by the attention, but not hopeful. It still didn't mean anything good for Kurt. Eventually, Blaine's views towards Sebastian would change and Kurt, since he didn't want a quick fling with him, would still be the silent admirer.

Feeling miserable, Kurt ducked down and dug a quill out of his bag. It was pointless to send anymore letters if Sebastian was honing in. Blaine wouldn't care about a secret admirer when he had a real, handsome boy flirting with him . Soon enough, Sebastian wouldn't be the only one vying for his attention.

"Sam, _no,_ that's not blank–"

Kurt looked up just in time to see Blaine swipe a folded piece of parchment from his friend's grip. It was his letter from this morning. His stomach jolted at the sight of it, at the familiar scrawl of his own writing. He watched Blaine bat Sam's hands away and carefully tuck the letter into his book. Once Sam was focused on the lesson again, Kurt just caught a glimpse of Blaine pulling the parchment free and opening it. The sweetest, brightest smile captured Blaine's face then, and Kurt's chest twisted like a spring. _He'd_ put that adorable, bashful grin on Blaine's face.

"Kurt, perhaps you can tell us the correct incantation and explanation for a Summoning Charm?"

At Professor Schuester's voice, Kurt startled and blushed. He fumbled with his quill, almost dropped it, and looked up to find Blaine's eyes locked on his. For a moment, he held Blaine's gaze, trying to smile and not look guilty of staring, but just as quickly he looked away. He didn't stand a chance with Blaine at all.

"_Accio_ is the correct incantation," Kurt recited, blushing harder at his high voice. Blaine definitely wouldn't be interested if he knew that letter was from him, not with a voice like a banshee. "A Summoning Charm is used to make an object of the witch or wizard's choice come to them."

"I'd like to make a certain Hufflepuff Seeker come to me," Sebastian said under his breath, but it was loud enough for Blaine and Kurt to hear.

Kurt gritted his teeth and picked his quill back up, his grip so tight his fist was shaking. Blaine's face had turned a bright, embarrassed red as Sam and the other Hufflepuff boy glared over at Sebastian. What he wouldn't give to strangle Sebastian with his stupid tie right now. Just wind it around the other boy's neck a dozen times and then a few times around his dick to make sure he'd never stand a chance with any beautiful boy Kurt liked ever again.

"Piss off, Smythe," Sam hissed under his breath. He leaned back behind Blaine, who was red in the face, but staring resolutely at his notes. "Blaine's tastes are way too good for Slytherin scum like you."

"Boys, enough chatter! Five points from Hufflepuff and Slytherin!"

Sam and Sebastian turned back to the front as Blaine scribbled down what Professor Schuester had already put on the board up front. Was it Kurt's imagination or did Blaine suddenly look guilty after Sam's last comment?

Kurt gave Sebastian's lean form a glance. He was attractive, there was no denying it, but he was rude and callus, too. Blaine couldn't possibly like someone like Sebastian, could he? Kurt wrote down what was on the board, and tried to ignore the gnawing in the back of his mind. If the Slytherin Blaine liked (if he even liked one) was Sebastian...

He swallowed and looked between the two boys again, from Sebastian's hot gaze and the way Blaine's fingers fumbled as he wrote, the corner of Kurt's letter just poking out of his book.

Kurt had to send another one, had to at least let Blaine know that it wasn't Sebastian sending them, because if Blaine thought Sebastian was a secret romantic and went for him under that falsehood, he'd never forgive himself.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **So I figured after my chapter 2 mix up, that I'd go ahead and just post Chapter 3 - in the right order this time! And so that anyone confused can get an update with a note of explanation!

For those who missed that correction: I accidentally posted Chapter 3 as Chapter 2, so you may have already read this chapter as the second one. In that case, there's a new chapter 2 awaiting you. And then this one is next. Apologies again for the mistake and confusion. I'm a doofus at 4am, what can I say?

In light of this mixed up nonsense, I will **_not_ **be posting a new chapter on Friday. I will mostly likely be posting Chapter 4 on Monday, December 8th. That way I can get my last week of college finished without worrying about posting an update.

Enjoy the new chapter, for those who haven't read this part or for those who have a new chapter 2 to peruse.

**Owl Post**

**Chapter 3**

After a long day of classes and being stalked around the castle by Sebastian Smythe, Blaine was glad for the comfort of his squishy armchair by the fire in the Hufflepuff common room. Mondays were exhausting. It was like trying to work a broken wand with no spell and no hands. Around him, Sam and Mike flicked bits of parchment at each other, Sugar Motta was squealing about her new fur scarf, and a rowdy crowd of second years were attempting to help a first year get his cat off the top of one of the round windows.

Blaine watched a few of them stack more books up until they could reach the kitten. They always seemed to forget magic as an option, even the wizard-born ones.

"That's going to fall over," Blaine called as he shoved his Charms book and half-finished essay aside. The second years backed away nervously. The girl about to climb onto the books paused. "Look, _wingardium leviosa!_"

The tabby kitten meowed and its fur puffed up in fright as Blaine lowered it into the boy's arms. When Blaine dropped back into his armchair the kitten was purring and winding itself around the boy's neck. Back at their table by the fire, Sam and Mike had started a gigantic pile of parchment balls and were stacking Exploding Snap pieces on top of them.

"You're going to lose your eyebrows," Blaine said as he flipped to the back of his Charms book to look something up. "Then they'll grow back and look like mine."

"I said I was sorry for that, like, six hundred times," Sam said with a frown. "I like them better this way. Boomerangs are awesome. Unless they come back and break your nose."

"_That_ was also one time," Blaine mumbled around his grin. The summer of their third year had meant a vacation to Australia with Cooper and his modeling entourage. While Cooper had been spray tanned and stuffed into a million different outfits, Sam and Blaine had fried themselves at the beach, learned to surf (badly), and then broken Sam's nose with a brand new boomerang. "I never did apologize. I was too busy laughing at your bloody screaming."

Sam glowered and flicked a parchment ball at him. Blaine ducked, but his hand hit his book and knocked it into the growing tower. Mike gasped as it exploded in his face. A cloud of ash and smoke engulfed his head as Sam started howling and Blaine rolled his eyes. As the other two argued over who was cleaning what up and got into another parchment ball fight, Blaine flicked back to the chapter and a folded piece of parchment slipped out.

The letter from his secret admirer. Heat poured into his cheeks as he cradled it in his hands. He glanced at Sam and Mike, found the two busy wrestling on the couch, and unfolded it. The same words from earlier, the same deep green ink, and a neat, curvy handwriting he didn't have an owner for. More than anything, he wished he could just tap his wand against the page and have it tell him who had written it, who had a crush on him, and if they were as worthwhile as they seemed.

"Oh, is this from your cutie?" A wad of bubblegum smacked next to his ear. Blaine quickly stuffed the letter into his pocket. Sugar was leaning over his shoulder with bright eyes. Sam and Mike paused in their tangled wrestling match.

"It's nothing," Blaine said, but his face burned. "Just the schedule for prefect duties next week."

Mike sat up and looked him over. "Margaret said we wouldn't have those until Thursday."

"It's a, uh, preliminary schedule," Blaine invented as he stuffed his books into his bag. "She wanted my help looking it over."

"She hates you." "She does not. It's not my fault I'm gay and she had a crush on me when we were second years."

"It was kind of funny watching you do the gentleman dodge all year," Sam said. "Finally had to tell her myself."

Sugar pouted as she draped herself over the couch and rubbed her new scarf over Blaine's face. "I missed all the good stuff."

Mike sat up and dusted his sleeves off. "Come on, what's on it?"

"It's– just a–"

"_You grow more beautiful every morning when the sunlight–"_

Blaine leapt to his feet and snatched the letter out of Sugar's hands. She'd grabbed it while she'd been rubbing the scarf all over his face. "It's _nothing_. Just a note–it's probably from some first-year girl who doesn't know I'm gay. Forget it."

"Forget it?" Mike grinned. "Since when do you not at least let us have a laugh at a note like that? It's from a _guy_, isn't it?"

"A boy?" Sam shouted. "Let us read. I wanna see what your secret admirer has to say. If he doesn't at least comment on your round, onion booty–"

"I do _not _have an onion booty!"

Blaine ducked past Mike and stumbled his way towards the dormitory. His bag and books could stay in the common room overnight. Nobody would mess with them except Sam and Mike. He slammed the door on the sixth year dormitory and flopped face first into his bed. Why hadn't he kept the note in his book? It would have been safe there, a secret for just him.

Blaine rolled onto his back and held the letter up over his head. Maybe it was a little cheesy, a little too clichéd or whatever else Sam and Mike were saying downstairs, but it was _his_. Someone had taken the time to write him a letter trying to express what Blaine hadn't managed in four years. He couldn't even say hi to Kurt Hummel without squealing and tripping over himself. At least this person–this boy he hoped–had done something about his feelings.

He'd write back. It was worth a chance to find out who this person was, to try to meet up somewhere and give himself a hope at something besides his fantasies. Blaine rolled back over and tugged his dresser drawer open and dug out ink, a quill, and parchment.

"Blaine?"

The door creaked open a little wider and Sam poked his head in. Blaine could just see his long blond hair through the part in his curtains. "You don't have to stay up here. We're sorry we teased you. We just figured that letter was like those notes you used to get."

"Its fine, Sam," Blaine said. He set the parchment on his bed and let Sam nudge his curtains apart. "This one was… it was really sweet. It's probably stupid."

"No, I don't think it is. A weird way to meet, but maybe it is a guy. A really sexy one that'll appreciate your onion booty."

"I don't have an onion booty!"

Blaine rammed Sam with his pillow and beat him back towards the door. He heard Sam trample back downstairs and was getting ready to shut the door when Mike appeared.

"Now you? Let me guess, you're all going to take apology turns like last time."

"We did that?" Mike looked around and then shook his head. "Look, I'm sorry. We didn't mean to upset you. We're just excited that you might have someone."

"I don't. It's probably nothing," Blaine said. He sat back down on his bed and shrugged. "They're always notes from girls, but… this one was different. It was sweet and it put into words how I feel about–forget it."

"Oh, well, that's good, right? Who's it from?"

As Mike sat down beside him, Blaine hesitated. As much as he wished he knew this person's name, he didn't. But he couldn't deny that swelling in his belly. It wasn't heavy like he'd eaten too much or like he was bloated with water or air. It was a light feeling full of warmth and something that felt like hope.

"Queen delivered it to me this morning," Blaine admitted. "No name or any hint about who it is. I've never seen the handwriting before either. It might even be a joke. It probably is."

"With a smile like yours? You're a catch, you dolt. Can I see it?"

Blaine pulled the letter out of his robe pocket and handed it to him. Mike read it and beamed. "That's adorable. Aw, I wish someone would write me a letter like this."

"I could talk to Tina about that if you want," Blaine said.

Mike shoulder checked him and laughed. "No, she'd only write about my abs." He stared at the letter for a few moments. "I don't know the handwriting either. It looks too neat to be any of the boys I know."

Blaine wilted a little. He'd thought the same thing earlier. The script was strong, but neat and curling. The only man he knew with handwriting more eccentric was Cooper.

"You should write back," Mike said after a moment. "It doesn't hurt to see if they'd say who they are. And you can ask if they're a boy or not, too. Maybe it _is_ someone you'll like. You said Queen brought you the letter?"

"Uh, yeah, at breakfast," Blaine said. "Whoever it is knew my owl."

"Well, she's easy to spot," Mike reminded him. "Only pure snowy owl in the whole castle."

Blaine nodded and picked his quill back up. "I'm going to write back. An answer is better than hoping they'll keep writing."

Mike clapped him on the shoulder and left. As the other sixth year boys slowly trickled in over the next hour, Blaine wrote and rewrote his reply. There was so much to say, but so much he shouldn't put in this first letter. What if it was just some young girl? Or a prank? Pouring his heart into a reply this soon would be stupid. He had to just stick to questions and compliments.

By the time Sam returned to the dormitory Blaine had a decent, but short, letter to send off.

"You're writing back?" Sam whispered as he changed into his pajamas. Around them the other boys snored and snuffled in their sleep.

"Yeah, I just want to see if there's anything there. Kind of stupid, I know."

"No, it's, like, romantic," Sam said. He slid into his bed and turned to look at Blaine folding up his letter. "Hey, don't look so scared. I bet it is a hot guy and you'll have a boyfriend by winter break. Then we can go on double dates in Hogsmeade for Valentine's Day. Quinn will love getting to tease you."

Blaine laughed as he crawled under his blankets and said goodnight.

In the morning, Blaine woke up after the other boys in his dormitory. It was Tuesday. His first class wasn't until noon and then there was another long break until Astronomy in the evening. Blaine yawned and climbed out of bed. After a quick shower, he put on his robes and took his letter up to the Owlery. It was still early, only a little after ten o'clock.

Inside the Owlery, it was blustery and cool. The sunlight was just starting to stream in through the long, high windows as Blaine crunched his way towards the perches. Overhead, dozens of owls had their heads tucked under their wings. Blaine stared up into the crowd for a few moments before he spotted Queen nestled way at the top between two eagle owls.

"Queen? Come here, girl!" Blaine whistled softly until she poked her head out. She glared at him and turned away. "Please? I've got bacon."

Before he could even pull the strips out of his napkin ball, she was on his shoulder. Blaine laughed as she started rubbing her head under his chin.

"All right, all right! Here." He tore a few pieces off and set them on the windowsill. After she finished the first strip, Blaine pulled the two letters from his pocket. "Question for you. There's toast in it if you're honest."

Queen cocked her head and hooted.

"The letter you brought me yesterday," Blaine continued as she inched towards the food in his napkin, "do you know who gave it to you?"

A nod and a nudge against his fist.

"Which house were they in? Was it a boy or–"

The door creaked open behind him. Queen fluttered away into the rafters as another boy entered. It was Kurt Hummel.

Blaine stood up and stuffed the letters into his pocket. His napkin of toast and bacon tumbled out of the glassless window. "H-hi."

Kurt spun around as the door clanged closed. "Hello, Anderson."

Blaine stood there as Kurt shuffled forward and called a handsome owl down to him. He should leave. Come back later or forget the whole thing. How could he even bother with some sweet anonymous person when his insides splintered like fireworks at the sight of Kurt?

"Hi, McQueen. You up for a long trip?" Kurt smiled at his owl and offered him a bite of toast.

Blaine bit his lip at the sight. For the longest time he'd thought he was the only one who snuck food for their owl. Sam and Mike always nagged him about it. Even Sugar raged at him for giving Queen an unhealthy diet. But Kurt seemed to agree with him about bribes disguised as treats.

Queen fluttered back down and settled on his shoulder as Kurt woke his owl up with more toast.

"Hey, girl. Um," Blaine watched Kurt for another moment before turning towards the window. "I've got a delivery for you."

Queen shook her head and hooted loudly. Behind him, Kurt scuffled around through the old mice bones.

"She's beautiful."

Kurt stopped beside him at the window. Blaine's stomach felt like it was trying to float out of his body. He nodded as Kurt's owl fluttered down onto the windowsill.

"My brother gave her to me when I got my Hogwarts letter," Blaine said. He didn't know what else to say, but at least he'd managed a few words. "Her name's Queen."

"Really? This is McQueen after the–"

"Fashion designer," Blaine finished. Kurt laughed as he squatted down to tie his letter to his owl's leg. "That's cute. I, uh, I named her after the band, Queen."

Kurt finished tying his letter on. "Take this to Dad, okay?"

McQueen hooted and took off out the window.

"You writing home, too?" Kurt asked as Blaine dug into his pocket for the letter he wanted to send. He didn't want to tell Queen what to do in front of Kurt. He'd look even stupider than he already did.

"Um, to my brother," Blaine lied. "He's in America right now modeling some new line of robes."

"Oh, he's the one in the magazines! _Wizard of the Robes _cover boy, Cooper Anderson. He's gorgeous," Kurt babbled. His cheeks turned pink. He kicked at a few bones on the floor. "I've had the biggest crush on him when I was eleven."

Blaine swallowed and looked away. Of course. Kurt liked Cooper. Even when he wasn't in the same country, Cooper was still the better one. He didn't stand a chance, even less than before. He tugged the letter out of his pocket and looked at it.

"Yeah, that's Cooper." Blaine cleared his throat. "I guess you've got to get to class."

Kurt startled a little and his smile faltered. "Well, I have to finish that Transfiguration essay for this afternoon. Um, I'll see you in class?"

Blaine nodded sadly and watched Kurt shut the door behind himself. Queen hooted softly at him and nudged his chin with her head. Kurt Hummel was a closed door to him. But this letter, this secret admirer wasn't.

"Take it back to him," he said. Blaine offered his reply to Queen and she grasped it with her beak before flying out the window. He sat and watched her circle around the tower and out of sight. Someone, somewhere, would get his reply shortly and he only hoped they'd be brave enough to write him back.

* * *

><p>All day Kurt bubbled from his toes to his cheeks. Blaine had spoken to him! Sure, it had only been in the Owlery and about nothing important, but it was something. Those few moments had been more than he'd ever dared to dream up since July. And Blaine had been writing to someone, too.<p>

As Professor Binns droned on about some legislative amendment from 1891, Kurt stared off towards the window. History of Magic was one of his favorite subjects despite the dull professor. Looking up facts, reading about how things had transformed and changed to get to this moment, was something he enjoyed. Of course, the rest of his year-mates didn't seem to agree. There were only seven who had continued on to N.E.W.T. level; a few sturdy Ravenclaws, Mercedes Jones from Gryffindor, one Hufflepuff whose name escaped Kurt, and then himself and Sebastian. Clearly they'd never bothered to read the textbooks and had tried to rely solely on Binn's reedy, yawn-inducing voice. History was fun, and not continuing such an exciting subject was silly. Even Blaine, for all his intelligence, hadn't chosen this class.

"Are you going to take notes for us or not?"

Kurt glowered at Sebastian and continued twirling his quill. "Take your own notes."

"I sell mine at a high price," Sebastian said. He rested his head on his hand and looked over at Kurt. "Besides, you catch all the stupid details on the tests."

"Because I read the damn book, Smythe." Kurt turned away and looked out the window to his right. It was clear and bright outside. After his surprise meeting in the Owlery, Kurt had taken his Transfiguration essay outside to finish by the lake. He hoped it would stay nice at least until Quidditch season so he could enjoy the sun for a few weeks.

"Why you aren't a Ravenclaw, I'll never know." Sebastian sighed and kicked his chair back against the wall.

Up front, Professor Binns continued to drone on about the 1891 Goblin Legislation Bill as Kurt zoned out. Maybe it was stupid to take this class at N.E.W.T. level. It would look nice on a resume, but sitting through it wouldn't be much fun. Professor Sylvester would let him drop, then he could just read the book in his free time and avoid chatty hour with Sebastian.

"So what do you think about Anderson? Certainly sharpened his little mop-top up, hasn't he?"

Kurt stiffened and tried not to grind his teeth. He had to deflect Sebastian's interest, had to cut him off without Sebastian realizing it. But how? The only way Kurt would still be accepted by the other Slytherins was if he turned Blaine into a conquest and he would never do that to anyone.

"Still a Puff," Kurt said slowly. He watched an owl swoop past outside and was hit with a spark of inspiration. "He looked better when his hair hid that awful face. I can't believe you, of all people, would chase _that_."

"Why wouldn't I?" Sebastian demanded. His chair legs clattered back down. The other five students paused to stare back at them, but Professor Binns continued like he always did. Kurt was sure ghosthood came paired with deafness.

"Why would you? A Gryffindor I would understand. It's fun to mess with them, but what's the point of a Hufflepuff? They're just… ugh."

Sebastian stared at him for a long moment. He was thinking it over, hopefully buying it, or talking himself out of it with just that little nudge. Kurt met his eyes and schooled his face into a bored expression. The less interested he was, the better chance he had at changing Sebastian's mind.

"Quidditch," Sebastian said carefully. "If I fuck that tight little ass and then stomp on his heart, Berry might actually manage to beat him."

"Right, let's piss an Anderson off and hope that makes Rachel's job easier."

Sebastian flushed at his words. Everyone who was anyone knew about the Anderson family. They'd been around for longer than Sebastian's and Kurt's combined and as long as any of the other pureblood families. Each Anderson who was note-worthy was famous for never backing down, and Blaine's own mother and her glorious Quidditch career were proof of that. There was even a section in their history book from fourth year that mentioned Blaine's great-great-great times six grandmother and her fight for centaur rights.

"But he's so meek. He's not like the rest of them. That's why he's a tosser in Hufflepuff and not some brash idiot in scarlet."

"And when you mess with him and his mother finds out, guess who's going to be out of a job, Smythe? Three hints, he's responsible for squirting you in your mother."

As Sebastian frowned and twisted his hands, Kurt glanced back out the window. Maybe he was being too aggressive about this, but there was truth to his words. Blaine's mother, Marcia Anderson, visited Kurt's father's Quidditch shop several times a year and he'd seen firsthand how protective she was of her younger son. These days, she was the head Quidditch correspondent at the Daily Prophet, and Sebastian's father (as much as he loathed it) was her employee. They'd played together in the league, two seekers on rival squads that had become rather legendary in the twenty years they faced off. Every match, Marcia beat him and nobody ever let the Smythes forget it.

Blaine wasn't like them, Sebastian had that right. He was softer, kinder to those he didn't know, and more willing to stop and talk than rush into action. But he had some of that fire, too, and Kurt was willing to bet he'd be a churning vortex is Sebastian managed to hurt him.

"I–he'd be furious if she fired him," Sebastian admitted after a few minutes. He stabbed his parchment with his quill and growled. "He wants nothing more than to get her fired and take over, and–damnit, Hummel. Why can't you use that brain to find me a sharp Seeker instead of skinning my ass before my father does?"

"More fun to mess up your plans," Kurt said. He held in his sigh of relief at the hopeful end of Sebastian's conquest. Sebastian wouldn't pursue Blaine for anything serious–he didn't go after anyone for more than a fling–and unless he found a way around his father's job, then Kurt was safe.

Sort of.

A school owl had landed on the window ledge and hooted softly at Kurt.

"What's it doing up here?"

Kurt ignored Sebastian and unlatched the window. It was a school barn owl, not McQueen or Queen which was a relief. Blaine's owl was quite smart and listened to his requests well. The owl hopped in, dropped the scroll in its beak on Kurt's desk, and took off out the window.

"Letter from home," Kurt said. It took all of his self-control to say it slowly and with a frown. It was a reply from Blaine. He'd seen enough of Blaine's handwriting this week to recognize it, but it made his chest twang slightly to see "Secret Admirer" written in that hand. "Checking up with my dad, you know."

Sebastian frowned in return. It was common knowledge that Kurt's father had suffered a heart attack two summers ago. Even Sebastian had been sympathetic when he'd heard what had happened and the long recovery process.

"How's he, uh, doing? Not trying his hand at some Muggle hopscotch, I hope."

Kurt snorted. "Hos-pi-tal. Hopscotch is a kid's game. He's better compared to before. And do you really think Hudson would be my stepbrother if he'd hadn't been going to St. Mungo's? That's where he met Carole."

"Oh, right. I forgot about that," Sebastian said with a shrug. He stretched his arms over his head as Kurt tucked the letter into his bag. "How is that troll ass these days? Still lumbering around the pitch, way I hear it."

"Only thing he seems handy with is a bat," Kurt agreed. Finn was the Captain and a Beater for the Gryffindor Quidditch team. A second later, Sebastian chuckled and Kurt rolled his eyes. "What?"

"From what I hear from your four-poster, you're more than capable with a bat yourself." Sebastian grinned and did his usual full-body glance just to see if Kurt would squirm. He didn't. "You wouldn't happen to be handy with a broomstick would you, because–"

"I am not doing anything with your alleged broomstick, Smythe. I imagine it's much more of a twig than anything else," Kurt bit back.

"It–no, piss off, Hummel. I'm talking Quidditch," Sebastian continued and for once he looked serious. "Look, Berry's a little shit, okay? I know you can play, what with your family owning a shop for six generations."

"My dad's a Squib, remember?"

"Do I ever let you forget it? He still makes fantastic brooms, and your mom played internationally," Sebastian said. "Look, I'm sick of Berry's drama and I've finally got a chance to get rid of her. I'm Captain now, and I'm holding trials this weekend, no reserves or favorites. As much as I hate saying it, and you know I do, she's easily the best unless there's a miracle first year that staggers onto the pitch and has the snitch fly into their mouth. Do you play Seeker?"

"Once, in Little League," Kurt finally said. And that was perfectly true. He'd been a fantastic seeker as a young child, all the way up until Hogwarts when he stopped. Playing for his house team had been a huge dream when he was little, he could be just like his mother if he did, but then he'd met his house team and thought better of it. They'd kicked him out of tryouts that first year, both for being a scrawny firstie and for what he was wearing. "I haven't played in years and I doubt I'm any good."

"No first year tries out unless they're the best," Sebastian snapped. His fist hit their table as the dismissal bell rang. "I know you went to that tryout. Berry told me because she had every intention of sabotaging you if you'd showed up second year. She's such a–ugh. Tryouts are Saturday morning. If you aren't there, you'll be very cross with yourself."

Sebastian snatched up his bag and left. It was a threat more than anything, and Kurt wished he had a way out of it. Unless he thought of something, he'd have to tryout and either stun everyone or flop. Flopping wasn't an option, not in front of his Slytherin peers.

With a snarl working up his throat, Kurt slammed his textbook shut and hurried downstairs for dinner. Sebastian wasn't there when Kurt arrived and he hoped he wouldn't show until he was finished. Rachel and Santana were at the middle of the table. As usual the younger students had given them a wide berth, while the seventh years speckled the end closest to the entrance hall. Kurt slid onto the bench beside Santana and dragged a dish of chicken towards himself.

"What do you have to look so pissy about?" Santana snapped when she caught sight of him. Kurt glanced up and saw the frown pulling her face down. Rachel didn't look any better. Apparently news of the tryouts had already spread, though how he wasn't sure. Sebastian hadn't made the announcement yet from what he understood. With any luck, he was making the post on the notice board in the common room right now. That gave Kurt twenty minutes to stuff his face and leave. "Well?"

"Smythe being his usual self," Kurt settled on. "I'm stuck with him sodding my ear off in history."

"Ew, why would you take history? That class is just a long nap," Rachel said.

"He gets a boner over that old ghost's warbling tones," Santana said loudly. A few Ravenclaws paused and looked over at them. "I can't believe Smythe is taking it."

"Not much else he can take with his O.W.L.s," Rachel said happily. "He's lucky he can take any classes at all. I wish he couldn't. Then _I'd_ be Captain and–"

"Oh, would you shut up about Quidditch," Kurt snapped. "That's all he talked about and I'm sick of hearing it."

Santana and Rachel exchanged looks and Kurt almost mentioned the tryouts, then thought better of it. Let them find out on their own.

"Oh, what do you care if we talk Quidditch? Do you have any idea how much work it takes to play?" Rachel said. She glared at him, swung her hair a little and Santana's fork clattered to her plate as she covered her face. The hair swing always meant a rant. "I get up early every day to fly laps, to do physical exercise like a _Muggle_, and then to catch walnuts. _Walnuts, _Kurt. I'd like to see you try that. Oh, wait, that's right. You can't play Quidditch, can you? You couldn't even stay on your broomstick during Flying lessons first year."

"Yeah, he could," Santana mumbled. "Better than Smythe as I recall."

"I was still the best!" Rachel screeched. She glared at Kurt and stood up.

Kurt stared at her, suddenly hot all over his face and neck. He could play, even if he'd never done so around them. And he _was _a better flyer than her. The only reason he had held back was because he hadn't wanted his dad to find out and encourage him after those stupid tryouts the week before flying lessons had started. That had been enough of a disaster without making his dad worry about him being bullied while he was away at school.

"Did you ever think maybe I blew that race on purpose?" Kurt asked softly. "That maybe, just because you're full of yourself and slap it in everyone else's faces, that I don't? I am better than you, Berry, and I always have been."

Rachel gaped at him and mouthed wordlessly for a moment. "You are not! You take that back, Kurt Hummel."

"Nope, I can't," Kurt said with a little snarky shrug. "Truth's out just like me." He slapped a heap of mashed potatoes onto his plate and then a piece of steak. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to eat and ignore your Banshee mouth."

Santana cackled happily as Rachel snarled and made a big show of flouncing out of the hall.

"Oh, I miss having you in all of my classes," Santana said as she piled roast beef onto her plate. "It's always nice to have another sharp wit around with her bellowing about her superiority complex."

Kurt grunted and stuffed a spoonful of mashed potatoes into his mouth. "Wh' 'aha 'las's 'ou 'ak'n?"

She rolled her eyes and then stuffed a piece of roast beef into her mouth. For a few minutes they gibbered at each other with their mouths full, before swallowing.

"Not much," Santana said finally. "I don't see the point when I'm just going to play Quidditch. Charms, Herbology, Transfiguration, Astronomy, Divination, Care of Magical Creatures, and Potions. Most of those are so I can see Britt more."

Kurt nodded even as he made a face. "Divination? Why would you ever want to continue that?"

"Because Professor Holliday is easy and kind of hot," Santana explained. "Me and Britt like to sit there and imagine a threesome with her." Kurt grimaced and gagged as Santana pushed her peas around. "I might drop it, though, since Berry's in there and insists on sitting with us. That Brett kid in your dormitory takes it, but she won't go near him. Says he smells like stale potions."

"She's not wrong," Kurt said. "I keep catching Sebastian disinfecting our room because of the smell. Like troll feet fermenting in goblin piss."

Santana crinkled her nose and said nothing. They finished their dinners in silence and left the Great Hall together. At the marble staircase, Brittany was waiting.

"Charms homework when I get back?" Santana asked as Brittany bopped forward and pecked her cheek. "Hi." They kissed properly as Kurt nodded.

"We can compare and edit each other's essays," he said. "I'm mostly done. We've got a free period in the morning if we need it."

"See you in the common room."

Kurt watched the two disappear up the stairs and out of sight. Seeing them was a little saddening and also a reminder of the letter still hidden away in his bag. He headed down the dungeon steps, turned down the first corridor and ducked into the bathroom. It was empty as always. Nobody used it because it was too dark and cold down here.

Still, Kurt locked the door with a wave of his wand and shut himself in a stall. He pulled the letter out and, with trembling fingers, unfolded it.

_Hi,_

_ Um, that sounds really lame, but I don't know your name. Your letter was lovely, though. It made my day, but I have to ask: are you a boy? I'm gay, you see, and I've gotten a few letters (not as beautiful as yours) from girls before, so I just want to be sure._

_ If you are a boy, I'd love to hear from you again. Or meet up sometime. You seem really sweet and kind, so I hope you write back, even if it's only to say you're not a boy._

_ Sincerely, _

_ Blaine_

Kurt couldn't stop his feet from stamping. He grinned as he read the letter a second, and then third, time. Blaine thought he was sweet! He wanted him to write back! He tucked the letter into his pocket and almost skipped down to the Slytherin common room. Sebastian was just inside, pinning his tryout notice up on the board with a murmuring crowd of third years looking on.

He took one look at Kurt and laughed.

"Look like you finally got some ass."

"Shut up, I–what are you lot looking at?" The third years scrambled away from the notice board, whispering. "I–my dad's going great," Kurt said as he glanced at the tryout notice. His stomach gave a pleasant little leap. "Really great. Next Saturday at ten? I'll be there."

"Really? I'm not going to have to blackmail you into being on the team?" Sebastian stared at him steadily for a few moments. "If you make it, I mean."

"I will," Kurt said sharply. "You tell Berry her days are numbered. I've got a nice broom at home I'm going to have Dad send up. She won't know a handle from a twig once I'm done with her."

Sebastian chortled and clapped him on the back before returning to his chair by the fire. Kurt smiled grimly at the notice and the chance he'd missed out on so long ago. This time he would try out and prove everyone wrong once and for all.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: First, apologies for this being so late. Sorry sorry sorry! December was much more hectic than expected. Manuscript editing stages to get through, graduation from college, my niece's first birthday, Christmas, and the retail madness that is my job this time of year. However, I'm back with a short chapter. I figured it was better to post a chapter with only one POV and get it out before the New Year than to extend then unexpected hiatus for even longer.**

**So yes, update party! Woohoo!**

**Also, my book announcement has arrived, and yes, it is a new, altered version of Go Your Own Way. There's links on my profile page and more information of my blog. Oh, and cover art! :D Very excited about it!**

**Onward with the Hogwarts boys! Allons-y!**

**Owl Post**

**Chapter 4**

The first day after his reply stretched longer than the week that followed. Blaine spent all of breakfast searching the ceiling for Queen, for a sign of any owl fluttering his way, but none appeared. Sugar was the only person near him to receive anything, but boxes of chocolates and fingernail polishes weren't love letters. By the following Wednesday, Blaine gave up hope despite Mike and Sam insisting he continue to wait.

"He's probably scared," Sam said as they sat down to breakfast. He scanned the cloudy ceiling and frowned. "I mean, who writes an anonymous love letter and expects a reply?"

Mike waved as he joined Tina at the Ravenclaw table. Elliott Gilbert and Dani Greene, two seventh year Hufflepuffs, took seats beside them.

"Morning, Blaine, Sam," Elliott greeted. He gave them a wide smile as Dani yawned and finished tying back her dark blond hair. "Scanning the skies again?"

Blaine grumbled as Sam said, "Well, if Blaine won't keep looking, then I will."

Dani patted Blaine's shoulder and shrugged. "I don't blame you for giving up, if you are. It probably was a silly girl, and she's too embarrassed to write back."

Sam kicked Blaine under the table.

"Ouch, Sam! What was that for?"

"I was aiming for her," Sam snapped. He waved his fork in Dani's face. "He's going to write back. I bet he's just, like, editing his love letter so he doesn't talk too much about your onion booty yet."

"I do not have—"

Elliott cleared his throat. "You do, actually. Very plump." He laughed at Blaine's stunned expression. "Not that I'm interested, relax. Asexual, remember? I'm not really into, well, any of that."

"Onions aren't plump," Blaine said. "That doesn't make any sense."

"It does!" Sam insisted. He shoveled eggs and bacon into his mouth, then climbed to his feet as the last of the Ravenclaws filed out in a wave. "Divination, gotta go! Search the skies, Blaine. He's gonna write back!"

Blaine glowered at the table as Sam left. His first class was Defense, but it wasn't until lunch time. Dani finished her plate and rested her head on his shoulder.

"So what did this love letter say? It's all Sugar will talk about. The rest of the girls are smitten with it, too. I think some of them are disappointed."

"It was… I don't know. Sweet. It doesn't matter now." Blaine ducked under the table to pull out his Defense essay for a final revision. There was nothing else to do anymore. The only single person he knew now was Elliott and he was so busy running half the clubs in the school that he was only around for a few meals a week.

Dani gave him a little hug as he propped his book open against the juice jug. "You'll find someone some day, Blaine. Sweet guy like you, it won't be much longer." She stood up and shouldered her bag. "I'm going to meet Melissa. Post-breakfast date. Bye!"

Elliott shoved a piece of toast between his teeth and waved as he stood, too. " G' c'ub me'tin. 'ater!"

Blaine watched them both disappear into the entrance hall. Dani stopped at the Gryffindor table to pick up Melissa, and Elliott thundered out of the room. Everyone was busy. Busy with romance and relationships and great things in their lives. He buttered a piece of toast, stacked his scrambled eggs on half, and folded it over. It was time he gave up on pinning and hoping. His mother always said wishful thinking meant nothing without drive and hard work. Without a reply or a real person to get to know, he couldn't do either.

He scanned his book, checking the last few facts he hadn't had time for last night, when something clattered down on the table.

Queen hooted at him.

Surprised, Blaine looked up past his book and saw a letter in her beak. Deep green ink, that same curly scrawl that had left an imprint in his mind. Blaine snatched the letter up, his throat thumping with the rhythm of his heart. He wrote back. His secret admirer—_please be a boy_—had finally sent him a reply. After a quick glance around the almost empty hall, Blaine opened the letter.

_Blaine,_

_ I'm sorry this reply took so long. The first few weeks back are always so hectic. Actually, I'm sorry I started this letter that way, too. I bet you read those first two words and assumed I was apologizing for thinking you were straight and that I was some girl like you feared, but I'm not. Like yourself, I'm gay, but very… shy, I suppose. At least in this way. I've wanted to say something to you—ask you out even—for months now, but I can't. It's complicated. It would be amazing if we kept writing, though I don't think I'm ready to meet up. _

_ I hope that isn't a problem for now and that you'll still want to write me back. You're such an amazing boy. Intelligent and kind and so talented. It's always a thrill to watch you on the pitch, especially when you beat Rachel Berry. I also hope you don't think I'm Sebastian Smythe. I know he's been interested lately, but he's not me. Not by a long shot._

_ This letter is getting really lame, isn't it? I'm sorry again. I want to get to know you, but if… if my friends found out—if either of our friends realized—we'd both lose them. I don't want that, and somehow I don't think you would either. That's not much of an excuse, I know, but some of my fellow Slytherins (and yes I am one. I hope that doesn't turn you away) have a lot of difficulty with change. I don't want you to have to deal with trouble from them because of me._

_ Sincerely,_

_ Your Admirer_

Blaine reread the letter twice before setting it down. It was a relief to know that his secret admirer was a boy, but it was also a letdown, too. Just letters, perhaps only letters that may fizzle out completely some day. He wilted a little at the thought, but as he reread the final paragraph, the second to last sentence caught his attention. A Slytherin! This boy was in Slytherin. Could he be—if it _was_ Kurt, the boy he'd dreamt about and liked for years—

But there were a lot of boys in Slytherin. In particular, a lot of queer boys in Slytherin. Blaine counted off the ones he was certain about. Two fourth years, a fifth year that was bisexual, a pansexual seventh year, and then Sebastian Smythe, Kurt Hummel, and Dave Karofsky for sixth years and—

What if it was Dave? Blaine grimaced and glanced down at the letter. He seemed like a decent guy these days, but several years ago he'd been less than friendly. Blaine hoped it wasn't him, because he wasn't interested after the way that boy had treated him, Kurt Hummel, and several others.

For the rest of the day, Blaine worked on a list of suspects in Slytherin. He tentatively ruled out Sebastian Smythe since the letter had said that was wrong, but he imagined it was possible that was a lie. How much could he trust this boy to be truthful when he refused to meet in person?

But that still left a decent list of seven. Fourth years, Adrian Jonstin and Trevor Roster; fifth year Michael Burton; Kurt Hummel and David Karofsky from his own year (with a maybe on Sebastian Smythe); and then Jesse St. James and Alex Hernandez from seventh year. Blaine couldn't rule any of them out even though half of them were dating one another or, in Jesse St. James case, dating Rachel Berry. Blaine wasn't sure what to think of it. He didn't know any of the boys, and had only spoken to Kurt once. If it was Kurt. Was it worth to keep writing if it meant helping some of those boys cheat?

Thursday morning, Blaine headed to Care of Magical Creatures by himself. He was the only Hufflepuff taking the N.E.W.T. level course, and so far he wasn't enjoying it. Last week they'd done the usual reminders and reviews on safety procedures, and Blaine had ended up partnered with Professor Beiste. Of all the Hogwarts professors he'd had classes with, she was easily the nicest, if a bit stranger than most.

He arrived in the entrance hall where they met just as the Slytherins came up from the dungeons. A large group of Ravenclaws came down the marble stairs, and Brittany Pierce skipped right over to Santana Lopez for a big kiss.

"Hey, love."

"Hi. Do you think we'll be finding unicorn beetles today?"

"I doubt it," Santana said. "I don't think those are around Hogwarts."

Kurt Hummel snorted beside her. "I don't think they're real at all, Britt."

"Of course they are. Bubblegum tortoises and unicorn beetles are everywhere if you know how to look."

Blaine watched the trio for a few minutes, took in the way the two girls held hands and how Kurt's eyes looked over the entire group until Professor Beiste arrived.

"All right, you lot. We're going to be spending the majority of this first term down by the lake, studying what lives in there. From now on we'll be meeting there for class unless the weather's awful. Come on. Follow me."

Blaine followed behind the group as the Gryffindors rushed ahead and the Ravenclaws and Slytherins filed down the hillside to the lake shore. They set up their quills and opened their book to the chapter on Grindylows as Professor Beiste broke them into groups. He was pleased to see they were groups of three and four this week so that he wouldn't be left out.

Professor Beiste broke up the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws, and arrived at the Slytherins, Brittany, and himself last.

"Lopez, Pierce, Hummel, and Anderson, you four by the bushes down there, okay? And no sneaking off, girls. I won't have a repeat of last June."

Santana rolled her eyes, and Brittany beamed and came over to Blaine. "Hi, Blainey. You cut your hair this year so you look like Elvin."

"Elvis," Blaine corrected as they headed to the water.

"That's some stupid Muggle, isn't it?" Santana asked.

Kurt said nothing as they sat down at the edge of the lake.

"He's a singer my dad likes," Brittany said. "You'd like him, Santana. More than Quidditch."

"I wouldn't," Santana said. "Nothing's better than Quidditch except your—"

"Nope! I don't want to hear about your sex life!" Kurt shouted and yanked on Santana's robes until she sat down. "Anderson doesn't either, do you?"

Blaine flushed a little. "Um, no, that's… no."

He sat down on Kurt's other side as Brittany sat beside Santana. As Kurt re-explained the assignment to Santana and Brittany, Blaine watched him. Was it him? Could he be so lucky to have Kurt admiring him from afar? But if it was Kurt, then why was he frightened of his friends not liking Blaine? Brittany liked him well enough, and Santana was hostile toward everyone. The others rarely said a word to him, but they were Quidditch rivals, so hostility wasn't surprising. Was he just wasting his time dreaming instead of asking the boy right beside him?

"I can't believe Smythe thinks _you're_ trying out for Quidditch this weekend," Santana was saying. "You fell off your broom first year, remember? What's he got on you?"

"What makes you think he's got anything on me?" Kurt asked as he checked the lake's temperature with his wand. "Maybe I'm just sick of listening to Rachel think she's Merlin's gift to Quidditch."

"You're trying out for Seeker?" Blaine said before he could stop himself.

Kurt nodded and looked at him for the first time since they'd gathered in the entrance hall. It was like the look he'd given him the Owlery. Kind, uncertain, even a little hopeful. "Um, yeah, it's… I wanted to when I was little, but the team my first year just laughed at me and didn't give me a chance."

"Oh, boy, here he goes." Santana tossed her quill aside and grabbed Brittany's hand. "Come on. Let's sneak into the bushes for a snog before Beiste notices."

"Santana, if you get us into trouble—"

But the girls were already gone. Blaine watched the bushes rustle a bit before the girls were too far away to be seen.

"It can't be comfortable," Blaine said.

"What?"

"Trying to snog in bushes, I mean. I've never, like, um, tried, but wouldn't you get twigs in your hair and scratches everywhere?"

Kurt frowned back at the bushes. "I hope so. I'm so sick of everyone else having someone to—never mind. So, um, what'd you get for water temperature?"

"Fifteen degrees Celsius," Blaine said. He couldn't bring himself to say anything about Kurt not dating anyone. "Same as you. I wonder how cold it is at the bottom."

"If it has a bottom. I heard they used to during the Triwizard Tournament once, a long time ago. They said the Durmstrang ship rose right up out of it. I figure it must connect underground to, like, the ocean and seas or something. Wouldn't that be wicked?"

"It'd be fun to explore. I wonder if we'll have a class in the lake at some point."

Kurt nodded and went back to scribbling on his parchment. He was so beautiful, so simple in how he existed beside Blaine. It would be more than a dream could ever offer if Kurt was his admirer, if he was given that chance to have a fantastic boy like him back.

"What? Is there something on my face?"

Blaine jumped and blushed. "N-nothing. Sorry. I was just thinking about…" He bit his lip instead of saying anything about the letters he'd been receiving. If it was Kurt, he wouldn't admit it out here in the open. He might even stop writing if Blaine pestered him. Or tease him and tell everyone who didn't already know. "Quidditch. I was thinking about Quidditch. Your tryouts this weekend. I think you can beat her. As long as you stay on your broom."

Kurt glowered at him. "I won't fall."

Blaine laughed and shook his head. "I'm kidding. I'm sure you'll be great. Rachel's good, but she's sort of… well…"

"Over the top? Pain in the ass?"

"A bit… selfish. Doesn't put the team first. That's what Quidditch is about, really. Being part of a team. I think you'll give them that."

Kurt smiled slightly and then looked away. "Maybe. My dad will be proud. He owns a Quidditch shop in—"

"Diagon Alley," Blaine said. "My mom shops there for all our equipment. Nobody makes a racing broom like Burt Hummel."

This time Kurt beamed, his cheeks flushed as the distant boom of the bell reached their ears.

"Pack up and get going, boys," Professor Beiste said. "Are those two in the bushes again? Lopez! Pierce! It'll be detention if I caught you two at it again!"

Blaine and Kurt headed into the entrance hall together and stopped at the marble staircase.

"Good luck this weekend."

"Yeah, thanks," Kurt said. "Um, I'll see you in Potions tomorrow?"

Blaine nodded. "Maybe at your tryouts, too. We have practice right before, so… I might stick around to see how it goes?"

"Spying on the competition?" But Kurt was smirking in a kind way.

"If you don't mind, I will. Smythe will probably kick me out if he sees me watching."

"Then don't get caught. I'm sure you've got a little Slytherin in you somewhere, right?" Kurt headed up the marble staircase and turned at the top. "See you."

Blaine stood there until crowds began to pass around him. Some groups headed into the dungeons, others up the marble staircase. Elliott appeared from the dungeons.

"You okay? You look a little dazed."

"I got another letter," Blaine said. "It's, um, the boy's a Slytherin."

"So?"

"I'm going to keep writing."

"Good. I'd kick you in your sleep if you didn't."

Elliott took him by the robe and lead him into the Great Hall.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: -rises from the fog like Mushu- I LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVE!**

**And this is why I haven't been setting dates for posting now. Because its going to be sporadic at best. My inspiration is just... not fluffy. I'm in major angst mode lately, which makes it very difficult to write and focus on fluffy Hogwarts!Klaine.**

**As with last time, this is only one POV. Kurt this time. **

**My aim is going to be for an update every 2-3 weeks, but there's really no guarantees right now. I've got a lot of other writing projects that take up time, but I'm hoping getting this chapter written will help me write this story faster. We shall see!**

**Enjoy the update!**

**Owl Post **

**Chapter 5**

Kurt shouldered his broom and examined himself in the mirror in the Quidditch locker rooms. In ten minutes, tryouts began. The Hufflepuff team was just finishing up, Blaine swooping and diving in loops and swerves all over the stadium to gasps and boos from the students—mostly Slytherins—who had come to watch.

As more footsteps thundered overhead, Kurt turned to look himself over. He looked good in his house colors. He'd look even better once he had an official Slytherin uniform. The door swung open on the locker room and the Hufflepuff team trooped in, sweaty and smelling of dirt. Blaine spotted him and beamed.

Kurt's stomach turned over as he pulled at his green sweater.

"It looks fine," Blaine said. He set his broom down beside Kurt and gave him a once over. "Shouldn't you be on the field?"

Kurt swallowed and nodded. He could beat Rachel, even with all of his house here to watch. By yesterday afternoon, every last one of them had heard he was trying to steal her spotlight. Rachel was furious. She'd spent all of dinner stabbing anything that came close to her plate, and when they'd all returned to the common room she'd given everyone a long rant about how awful he was as a friend.

"Um, y-yeah." Kurt adjusted his sleeves and robes, checked the laces on his boots.

"Good luck. You're going to be great."

Even Blaine couldn't convince him of that, but when he turned to Blaine he was met with a kind smile. For one fleeting moment, he felt braver.

"Everyone's out there," Kurt said instead of thanking him.

Blaine nodded. "They've been pouring in for the last twenty minutes. Hey, come on. You've got this, right? Way I hear it, you wanted to try out first year, so you must be good. Just show them what you've got."

Kurt breathed deeply and tried to nod, but he only jerked his head down. He could do this. He had to. Now that he was here, he'd never live it down if he didn't go out onto that field.

"If you're going to be sick—"

"I'm not." Kurt shook his head a little and glanced at Blaine. His mouth fell open. Blaine was beside him, sweaty, smiling, and now shirtless. His Quidditch jersey was on the bench beside them. "I-I-I…"

Sebastian's head appeared in the doorway. Fortunately, Blaine was blocked from his sight by the lockers.

"Get your arse out here, Hummel! I am not forfeiting this spot to Berry because you're too busy checking yourself out in the mirror."

Blaine shrugged at him, nodded his head towards the doorway. "Good luck!"

Kurt tried to nod again, but ended up back pedaling and watching the shifting muscles of Blaine's abdomen, the tight leanness of his chest, and the impressive tapering from his shoulders to his waist. He swallowed, almost tripped himself, and hurried onto the field.

"Anyone who thinks they're a Seeker over here," Sebastian was hollering. "That means you, Berry. You're no Seeker of mine with that attitude."

Kurt followed the surprisingly small group over to where Sebastian had pointed. Himself, Rachel, and two girls, probably third or fourth years. He supposed anyone with interest had decided to try antoher position once the rumors had spread about him and Rachel battling for the spot. Nobody would want to get between them.

Sebastian continued dividing everyone up into their positions, and then began trial runs with Keepers.

"This is ridiculous," Rachel muttered. She sunk onto the bench at the edge of the pitch and glowered at him. "And all because _you_ think you're so much better than me. I'll have you know, Hummel, that I'm—"

"Spare me a repeat of last night," Kurt said. "I'm trying out because I want to play, not because you're a selfish little—"

Blaine stepped out of the locker rooms, waved, and headed up into the stands. Rachel snarled.

"Why's Anderson staying? And who's he waving—oh my god." Rachel stared at a spot ten foot from the direction of Blaine's wave, which happened to be right where Sebastian was standing. "Are Smythe and Anderson—no way. No _way._ That's what this is about?"

Kurt's stomach knotted as Rachel talked herself into some ludicrous scenario. He listened for a few minutes as Rachel deduced that Sebastian and Blaine were snogging, and that Blaine—sweet, kind Blaine—had convinced Sebastian to hold Seeker tryouts to find someone "better". Which to Rachel meant someone who was awful so that Blaine could guarantee Hufflepuff won the Quidditch Cup in the spring.

Kurt snorted and rolled his eyes. But he was glad she hadn't noticed the wave was aimed his direction. Part of him wished it hadn't been. Secret letters were one thing, but all of a sudden they were talking, being friendly… and then what? If they were friends that would draw attention, and Kurt's friends would have something to say about it. He shifted his legs, pulled one over the other, then dropped it back to the ground and draped his broom across his lap.

"Do you even listen to yourself?" Kurt asked. "Do you really think Anderson, of all people, could think that up? He's smart, sure, but he's a Hufflepuff, not a conniving little Slytherin. Last week, I spotted him helping some first year who was crying because she'd tripped down the stairs."

"He's competitive enough," Rachel said. Her eyes followed Blaine into the stands and she glared at him as he sat off on his own at the top. "I bet he's here to sabotage me. He'll use some sort of spell so I'm awful. Like a-a Confundus Charm or—"

"Stop chatting and get up, Berry!" Sebastian's voice carried over the muttering crowd of Chasers. "You're up first for Seeker."

"And I'll be the first choice, too!"

Rachel huffed and took flight. Kurt watched her trial. All around the stadium, Sebastian had everyone from the Keeper tryouts in a circle, each with golf balls in hand to throw one after the other as they flew around the stadium. The goal for each Seeker was to catch as many as possible within two minutes while weaving amongst the Keepers. Any that were caught would turn green, and those that weren't turned red.

Despite Kurt's certainty, he had to admit that Rachel was good. She swerved and dived smoothly, caught and released one after the other, but she missed several in the middle, lost her rhythm, and ended by missing six of the last ten. When she landed, a third of the golf balls on the ground were red. Kurt's chest tightened. If that was the best she had in her today, then he was golden.

Rachel stomped off into the locker room instead of waiting around. Sebastian had the two younger girls go next, and they weren't bad, but weren't any better than Rachel. They each split the field with green and red.

"Hummel, you're up!"

Kurt stood, his legs shaking and his eyes scanning the stands until he saw Blaine. He was on his feet, that enormous smile still on his face, and for a moment, Kurt could see them. Together, happy, strolling around the lake or in Hogsmeade on a date. They could be everything he pictured if he'd stop being so afraid of his friends—of losing all of them and being judged and ridiculed by the entire school.

He mounted his broom and took off, leaving the fluttering in his stomach on the ground. For the last week, he'd been out here flying and practicing. Being in the air was a relief. This was the one thing he would always be able to do.

Sebastian's whistle blew and Kurt took off. He dove for the first, his eyes already tracking the next on his left. For two minutes, he swooped and loop-de-looped and dived and rolled, catching one and then another. By the end of his time, the field below was littered with bright green golf balls and a handful of red ones.

The Slytherins in the stands roared their approval. Kurt returned to the ground where Sebastian stood nodding and smirking. The two younger girls were frowning as they left. Rachel didn't return.

"Well, that's a relief," Sebastian said as he began running the tryouts for Beaters. "We'll get you suited in a uniform tomorrow. Rachel's reserve, unfortunately, since those kids sucked, so keep an eye when she's near. Knowing her, she'll use an Unforgivable on you."

"Right," Kurt said. He grinned despite himself. "When's the first practice?"

"Tuesday night. We'll talk more over dinner. Oi, Lancaster! Get moving or you won't be back on my team!"

It was only when Kurt was showered and back in his dormitory that he remembered Blaine. He'd left without a word to Blaine, and even as that same fantasy of Hogsmeade dates and sharing a frothy butterbeer flickered before him, he was glad he had. He wasn't ready to… be what? He was out, had been for years. Being openly gay had never been a problem for him. Not at home with his dad or Carole or Finn, and not here at Hogwarts.

But this was different. This was crossing house lines, breaking thousand year old traditions, maybe even breaking all of his friendships to pieces. It meant being lonely and miserable and even resenting each other if they worked out long enough to date. Because they would hate each other, how couldn't they if all of their friends turned on them for being together?

Leaving without a word had been for the best. They could be romantic in letters, even if Blaine didn't know who he was. It was better that way. But as Kurt lay down on his bed he realized nothing that he wanted with them could happen if he kept them distanced with letters. He sighed and sat up, his stomach tight. So far, Blaine hadn't replied to his last, and maybe he never would. Maybe it was better to let them fade out now rather than later.

Kurt pulled out a scroll of parchment to write his father and Carole about his tryout, and was interrupted by Dave Karofsky poking his head in.

"Your owl's been having a fit in the stairwell," he said as McQueen soared in. "Looks like you've got a letter."

Kurt stomach twisted. The only person who would write to him was Blaine. His dad's reply had come yesterday, which meant—

"Oh, thanks."

Dave left as McQueen settled on his shoulder and dropped the letter in his beak. Kurt watched it roll of his lap and onto his emerald bedspread. Only Blaine rolled his letters up and tied them off. His dad haphazardly folded them, Carole's were in envelopes, and the Daily Prophet was much too big for this.

He took a deep breath and untied the scroll.

_Dear Slytherin Admirer,_

_ Wait, that probably sounds accusatory, doesn't it? Sorry! I was just trying to think of a nickname or something based on what I know, and well… I guess that one doesn't work, but that's all I really know about you._

_ I don't have any problems with you being in Slytherin—it doesn't matter to me—but I think I understand why you're scared to meet. I've dealt with my fair share of Slytherins from being on the Hufflepuff Quidditch team and most of them—but not you!—aren't very nice. But I don't think my friends would care that you're in Slytherin. They might be surprised, but they'd come around because if I'm happy, then they're happy for me. I hope your friends are like that, but from the way you spoke, I can't help but think they aren't._

_ Regardless of it we ever meet—though I hope someday you'll have the courage to—I want to keep writing. To get to know you, but as friends. I mean, I'm flattered that you like me, but I can't set my heart on letters. On maybe only letters. Which doesn't mean I'm going to be running around dating every boy I see, but I think it's best to do this as friends first? Until you're (hopefully) ready to meet and go on a date?_

_ I'm sorry, that probably doesn't sound anything like what I'm trying to say. I want to know you, because you're very sweet, but I don't want to set myself on just you if there's no guarantees of this ever, well, being real. If I don't ever get to know your face or name. I'm hoping we can work towards that?_

_ Anyway, what do you like to do? Do you like Quidditch? What's your favorite subject? Um, favorite color? Do you have siblings?_

_ Those are all really lame questions, aren't they? Oh, well, I just want to know you. Beyond that you're a Slytherin and romantic._

_ Sincerely,_

_ Blaine_

Kurt set the letter aside when he was finished. Just friends. That was comfortable, safe. Perhaps that was better than being overly romantic with a boy he couldn't manage to tell his name to. At least, not when it was connected with these letters and more than short conversations in class. He stretched out on his bed and read the letter once more, a little prickle sharp in his belly.

Only friends because he didn't have the guts to confess himself to Blaine directly, but it was a start and Blaine—Merlin, was he always so patient and kind? He was willing to wait, to know him before he met him, to give him a chance. That had to mean he'd made a wonderful impression on him, right? That Blaine, despite his hesitations, wanted more if Kurt gave them the chance.

* * *

><p>Kurt wrote back that evening. He answered all of Blaine's questions—sing and listen to my favorite Muggle music, study magic, read fashion magazines, design clothing; yes, my whole family loves Quidditch; History of Magic even though Professor Binns is boring as all get out; Green, but purple is a very close second; a brother my age who goes here, too—and asked a few of his own. He poised the same to Blaine, and asked more about what he did outside of school and Quidditch.<p>

For two weeks they wrote, day after day, letter after letter. Before long, the questions turned to real conversations, sometimes about homework assignments or problems with spells, and other times about their families, coming out, and Blaine's brother's latest spread in _Wizard of the Robes _newest issue.

—_those abs are so fake, okay? I know my brother's stomach better than mine own. He's only been strutting around the world with no shirt on since he was thirteen, and those? Airbrushed like the Muggles do. Or some sort of spell. He won't tell me which, but I know I'm right. He keeps sending me pictures in his letters of him flexing like he's the hottest man on the planet. That spot is rightfully claimed by Adam Levine—do you know who he is? He's gorgeous. Much more so than my fake-abs brother._

_ Anyway, class is almost over and Sam keeps trying to read this over my shoulder. Can you believe it's been almost two months since you wrote that first time? And, well, I know you haven't mentioned it, but… I was wondering where you stood on meeting? They just posted the first Hogsmeade date this morning for Halloween, and—not that you have to, and I don't want to rush you—I was hoping you might accompany me? On a date, I mean?_

_ It's okay if you say no. I'll understand, but I guess I just… want more than letters. More than secretive friendship. I… I want to meet you and hold your hand in Hogsmeade and go to that stupid little poofie chair shop and blush until we can't stop giggling. _

_ I hope I'll hear from you again. I hope this isn't too much too soon for you._

_ - Blaine_

Kurt stared at the letter as he sat down in his Arithmancy class. A date. With Blaine. The boy he'd been writing to more than he'd ever written to anyone, but that he'd stopped talking to in person. It wasn't as if they had many chances to speak to each other, but then Kurt had been making every effort to avoid him, too. Three lunging paces to get out of sight in the hall, eating meals when he knew Blaine wasn't in the Great Hall, even being late for Quidditch on Sunday mornings so that Blaine had cleared off with the rest of the Hufflepuffs. The only time he really had to see Blaine was in Care of Magical Creatures, and with Santana and Brittany so busy trying to sneak off to snog it was easy to say very little to him.

"You're looking misery," Mercedes Jones said as she took the seat beside him. She was in Gryffindor with his step-brother, Finn, and despite being friends outside of Hogwarts, this was the only class they spoke to each other in. "You've been grinning like you're about to explode for weeks. What's up?"

Kurt pulled his supplies out of his bag and shook his head. "Nothing. Just… it's nothing."

"Mhmm. It's a boy, isn't it?"

"What? _No!_"

Mercedes laughed until the bell rang. She opened her book, and leaned towards him. "It _is_. I know that look on your face. Everyone in our year has that look on their face."

"So? That doesn't mean…" Kurt blushed and scribbled down what was being written on the board.

"Are you going to spill? Or am I going to have to ask Finn?"

"It's… you can keep a secret, right? Like, a really huge secret that absolutely nobody can ever know?"

Mercedes set her quill down and looked at him. "What's going on?"

"There's, um, well, I started writing to this boy. As his secret admirer," Kurt said and Mercedes beamed. "Only he doesn't know who I am."

"He's at Hogwarts? He's not, like, in Morocco or something?"

"No, no, he's… he's in our year. He's… Merlin, Mercedes, he's wonderful and beautiful, only I've been too scared to tell him who I am because—"

"Because of your dumb housemates," Mercedes finished. "Seriously, I know you're supposed to, like, be one of them, but you're more than just a Slytherin. How else could we be friends?" She shrugged. "I mean, I get it. It's the same reason we don't hang out constantly, but if you two like each other, then I say go for it."

"He asked me to Hogsmeade this weekend. For Halloween," Kurt said, and he pulled the letter from his pocket but didn't open it. "I—I'll lose all of them. Maybe even my Quidditch spot. My entire house will—but I want to say yes. I don't know what to do."

"Follow your heart," Mercedes said. "Be a Gryffindor for once in your life, even if you are a Slytherin."

"But—"

"Stop thinking about it, and start doing what you want to," she said. "You're only hurting yourself and him. Besides, Slytherin robes or not, you're just as much of a Gryffindor from what I've seen."

Kurt snorted. "A Gryffindor who's too scared to go out with a boy he likes? Yeah, right."

"What does being afraid have to do with whether or not you're courageous? Or fool-hardy, for that matter. Say yes," Mercedes said. "You march your butt down to Hogsmeade on Saturday morning, and you introduce yourself and kiss him until you're both blushing. And then come find me after and give me _all_ the details."

Kurt tucked the letter back into his pocket. "I don't know."

"Well, whatever you do, I think it was very brave to write him as a secret admirer. And romantic."

"Depends on how you look at it," Kurt said. He'd done that to avoid the same thing he was still avoiding, not to be brave or romantic. Well, maybe a little romantic. "He's in my next class."

Mercedes grinned as they turned to the next chapter in their books. "You can always tell him yes face to face then."

Kurt swallowed and set his quill down. His hands were shaking. He kept picturing the looks on his friends faces—Santana, Sebastian, Brittany, even Rachel—when they found out he was on a date with Blaine Anderson, a Hufflepuff and their Quidditch enemy.

"Or just write back," Mercedes's gentle voice said. Her hand grabbed his and held them still. "But nobody who really likes you is going to care as long as you're happy."

"I—yeah, right." He sniffled and pulled his hands away. "Thanks. I—his name's—"

"Blaine," Mercedes said and she giggled at the shocked look on Kurt's face. "I've seen you watching him in Defense when Rachel isn't looking. And he _is_ beautiful. If he wasn't gay, I'd ask him myself."

"You're the best, you know that?"

"I do. Even if we don't eat breakfast together. Now are you going to write him back or what?"

Kurt ripped off a piece of parchment. For a few minutes, he tried to respond to everything Blaine had written, to keep their conversation going as usual. But this was a big deal and it clogged him. Instead, he wrote one word at the end of class before he and Mercedes headed up to the Owlery.

_Yes._


End file.
